


Kibu's Dragon Age Fictober 2018 Collection

by Kibu



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: (a little bit anyway), Angst, Comedy, Fictober 2018, Fluff, Multi, One Shot Collection, Shameless Smut, Shorts, death warning applies to chapter 27
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 13,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibu/pseuds/Kibu
Summary: A collection of short Dragon Age one-shots courtesy of the 2018 Fictober prompt list.





	1. Prompt #1: "Can you feel this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

Watching Fenris read was one of Hawke's favorite activities. It wasn't something he got to see as often as he'd like; Fenris was still self-conscious about reading in general, even around just Hawke. So Hawke stood in the doorway of the room that had once been his - now _theirs_ \- and didn't make a sound, just watched the unconscious things Fenris did while enraptured by the written word.  
  
While Hawke silently watched, Fenris left his cross-legged position to lay flat on his stomach across the bed. In profile, Hawke still saw the way Fenris's lips moved to form a difficult or unfamiliar word. After a few attempts, Fenris frowned and adjusted his hold on the book as if to see the writing better.  
  
"Lit... lie..." He gave the book a stormy scowl and looked toward the door. "I've known you're there, Hawke. What's this word?"  
  
Hawke grinned sheepishly and walked over. "I can't put anything past you, can I?"  
  
"It isn't my fault you breathe loudly," Fenris said. He handed the book over to Hawke once Hawke had joined him on the bed. "Besides, the way you stare... I can just feel it, sometimes."  
  
Fenris pointed out the word and Hawke obliged. "That is 'lieutenant'. I didn't realize you were a fan of Varric's crime serials."  
  
"Don't go telling him about it; it'll go to his head. Hmph. 'Lieutenant'?" Fenris echoed with a noise of disgust. "That doesn't make sense."  
  
"I know," Hawke agreed. He sprawled himself beside Fenris and trailed his fingers up Fenris's spine. The oversized shirt Fenris wore (Hawke's) rode up with the movement. "Spelling is _such_ a pain in the ass."  
  
"I can feel you doing that, Hawke," Fenris warned. There was a smile audible in his voice. He took the book from Hawke's unresisting hand and closed it in order to set it aside.  
  
"What about this?" Hawke asked, summoning a tiny frisson of magic into his fingertips. About half an inch from Fenris's now bared skin, Hawke drew his way up the marks etched there and watched them glow. "Can you feel this?"  
  
Fenris groaned and bowed his head. Hawke waited a beat to ensure it was a _good_ groan before following the path of his fingers with his lips.  
  
Watching Fenris read was one of Hawke's favorite activities. Another was watching the way he could make Fenris _glow_.


	2. Prompt #2: "People like you have no imagination."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Garrett Hawke/Fenris, Zevran/Kieris Mahariel

"You can't honestly be trying to train him as an _assassin_ ," Dorian scoffed, torn between amusement and incredulity.  
  
Zevran glanced at Dorian from his temporary perch on the top rail of the fence that defined the training ring. Within the ring were two Dalish fighters - the Hero of Ferelden and the Inquisitor. Their blunted daggers clanged loudly over the area, the two of them moving in an intricate and deadly dance that wouldn't seem too out of place at one of the grand balls in Val Royeaux or Minrathous.  
  
"No?" Zevran asked mildly. "If you don't believe a Dalish can be just as deadly as, say, the Crows..."  
  
"Don't get me wrong - I don't doubt people from all sorts of places can be trained into cold-blooded killers." Dorian smirked and quirked an eyebrow. "No offense, of course."  
  
Zevran offered a charming smile. "None taken."  
  
"What I mean is that someone like Tam--" Dorian started to say, but stopped abruptly.  
  
Within the training eric, Kieris Mahariel swatted his opponent's blades out of the way and lunged to close the remaining distance between them. It was difficult to track the flashing steel. Tamvir Lavellan brought his blades up to deflect the attack, and instead of backing down used his and Kieris's combined momentum to his advantage. He fetched up against Kieris's chest, the dulled point of one dagger digging into the leather armor over Kieris's heart.  
  
Kieris looked down at Tam in surprise, then laughed and wrapped his arms around the shorter elf. "Good! You're really starting to think on your feet!"  
  
"Are you sure? I think I just got lucky." Tam scrubbed a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I would've sworn you had me there."  
  
Zevran cleared his throat. "Someone like him?" he prompted Dorian. "You were saying?"  
  
"Yes," Dorian said, clearing his throat as well. "Yes, well. I was going to say that someone like him would be ill-suited for such training, but I appear to be mistaken, and I _am_ capable of admitting when I am wrong."  
  
Zevran regarded Dorian for a long moment before finally grinning. "I, also, must admit to some mistakes caused by, er, faulty judgment. You see, normally people like you have no imagination for these sorts of things. I can now see, however, that this is not the case with you."  
  
"Out of curiosity, what was it that gave me away?" Dorian asked. Though he continued to address Zevran, his gaze did not waver from watching Tam and Kieris going over strategies and trading tips.  
  
"That look on your face, perhaps?" Zevran mused. "It clearly says that you are undressing our dear Inquisitor with your eyes. The pitched tent in your trousers is rather a telling, as well." When Dorian stifled a cough, Zevran chuckled. "Do not worry; I _entirely_ understand the appeal. I also am _intimately_ aware that an assassin's agility means he is _delightfully bendy_. It is easy enough to assume you are just as, shall we say, _familiar_ with this. And that little display they have given us, well, it is more than enough to take a _firm grip_ on more than just one's imagination."  
  
Just for a brief moment, Zevran finally had Dorian's full attention. "You know, I think I could grow to like you. We should get drinks sometime and chat."


	3. Prompt #3: "How can I trust you?"

He wanted to be useful. Not that Skyhold wasn't interesting, but Fenris wasn't the type to sit idle and cool his heels when there was plenty of work to be done. So he climbed the stairs of the library tower, heading toward the raucous calls of the crows overhead.  
  
Tamvir had gone off hunting rift, which was something that only the Inquisitor could do, but given what Fenris had heard around the keep since his arrival, it sounded like there were plenty of other, non-veil-related tasks that just needed the liberal application of a sword. Leliana had specifically requested Fenris come visit her for details about a job that he, or he and Hawke, could pick up to help the Inquisition.  
  
While Fenris was familiar with the fact that one of Tam's companions was a mage from Tevinter, suddenly coming face to face with the man was something of a massive shock. From his perfectly coifed hair to his immaculately clean boots, the man's appearance screamed wealth and power. Fenris hated him immediately.  
  
"Oh - well, hello there." The insufferable man smiled and Fenris vividly pictured punching him in his perfect teeth. "You must be Hawke's friend. Fenris, wasn't it?"  
  
"And you must be Tamvir's pet magister," Fenris snarled, his lip curling.  
  
The smile vanished. "Dorian of House Pavus. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but it appears that may not be the case. Have I done something to offend you already?"  
  
"You exist." Fenris scowled. "Will you move so I can pass?"  
  
Dorian stepped aside and gave a dramatic, yet truncated, bow. "Of course. And just for the sake of clarity, I am _not_ a magister."  
  
"It doesn't matter - you're all the same." Despite Dorian moving, Fenris didn't go past. "I thought I'd taken care of all that, yet here you are and here I am. What are you trying to do here? What does Tevinter want with the Inquisition?"  
  
Surprisingly, Dorian's only obvious reaction was to raise his sculpted eyebrows. "I haven't the slightest idea what Tevinter wants. We aren't exactly on the best of terms."  
  
"That is something you and your lot would say." Fenris's ears pinned back. "You expect me to trust you, don't you? How can I trust you?"  
  
"Thankfully, trusting me is not a requirement," Dorian assured him. "There are many people here who share your views." He gave another charming smile and sketched a far less formal bow before turning to head back into the alcove he had previously left.  
  
Fenris glared after him, but turned and made his way toward the rookery again without another word.


	4. Prompt #4: "Will that be all?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Cullen Rutherford/Caitlyn Trevelyan

He didn't have many responsibilities around Skyhold. It was work and he was glad to do whatever he could to help the cause. He was helpful. Dedicated.  
  
Fearless.  
  
There had been, and continued to be, times when he was the only person brave enough to handle certain tasks. Other people, even the Inquisitor himself, were too afraid to do it. They would even sometimes go out of their way to try to stop him. It was so nice to know that they cared so much about his well-being.  
  
"I will need someone to deliver this to the Commander," Josephine said. "It is very urgent. I realize that he requested to not be interrupted during the noon hour, so if you would please--"  
  
"I'll do it!" he volunteered immediately. Josephine's gaze turned to him, a grateful smile crossing her face - an expression that quickly changed to one of concern, or perhaps fear.  
  
"That may not be the best--" she began.  
  
"I can do it! You can absolutely count on me." He saluted and then held his hands out for the urgent reports.  
  
Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw the other agents shuffle away from him as Josephine reluctantly handed the pages over. "...Then give these to Commander Cullen," Josephine was saying. Distraction had made him miss a few words, but that was fine.  
  
"Yes ma'am," he agreed readily and saluted again. He turned on his heel smartly and left the room.  
  
"Wait, don't--" One of his colleagues reached for him, but he dodged out of the way of her hand.  
  
"It's okay," he assured her. "It'll be fine; you'll see." He hurried out into the courtyard and climbed to the top of the ramparts, taking two steps at a time. Josephine had said the reports were urgent. Everyone would be so pleased with him for getting the job done expediently!  
  
The Commander's office was surprisingly empty. He walked to the door on the opposite side of the room and pushed it open. There, his back to the door and standing close to the outer wall, was Cullen.  
  
"Commander!" he called, knowing from experience that it was bad to sneak up on Cullen. "I've come with urgent reports from--"  
  
Cullen turned quickly, leveling a gaze that burned with the fires of blessed Andraste herself. Behind him, looking bemused, was a blonde woman the agent recognized as the Trevelyan lass who had recently joined them. "Thank you, Jim. Leave them on my desk."  
  
"It's urgent news, Commander, I--"  
  
" _Leave them on my desk, Jim,_ " Cullen repeated, his voice holding something that seemed barely restrained.  
  
Suddenly feeling some tingle of fear for his life, Jim nodded. "At once, sir."  
  
When Jim didn't immediately, Cullen lifted his brows and gestured a hand toward the door from which Jim had come. "Will that be all?"  
  
"Ah! Yes, sir!" Jim turned and hurried back inside to deposit the papers. Whatever he'd interrupted, surely Cullen would forgive him.  
  
He was, after all, the best agent in the Inquisition.


	5. Prompt #5: "Take what you need."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

It was hard to act like nothing had happened. Neither of them was any good at it, either, judging by the looks Hawke had seen their friends exchanging after another awkward interaction. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. The whole situation wasn't working as it was.  
  
Late that same night saw Hawke taking a walk through Hightown. Dog chased circles around him, excited to be out and about and heading for one of his very favorite places. Before Hawke could even lift a hand to knock once their reached their destination, the door of the seeming-abandoned building opened.  
  
"I thought you'd come here," Fenris said. "Come in, then." He turned and walked deeper into the house with Dog happily on his heels.  
  
Hawke followed at a more sedate pace, making sure to shut the door behind him before walking through the house to Fenris's inner sanctum.  
  
Dog was already rolling around happily on the bed. Fenris stood near the fireplace. Waiting.  
  
"About the other night--" Hawke began.  
  
Fenris cut him off, his voice rough. "Hawke, please. I told you--"  
  
"I know," Hawke interrupted. Fenris turned to face him. "I know, Fenris. And I want you to take your time. I want you to take what you need."  
  
Judging by the look on Fenris's face, that wasn't what he'd expected.  
  
"I love you, Fenris." The words hung in the air, crystalline and fragile.  
  
Fenris swallowed hard, his brows furrowing. "Hawke..."  
  
"I love you," Hawke repeated. He stepped forward until they had only inches remaining between them. Yet he made no move to touch Fenris. "I mean that. And I promise you that no matter what happens, I'm still your friend." He faltered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "If you'll have me."  
  
Fenris's expression softened. "I would like that."  
  
"Good! I mean, er..." Hawke cleared his throat. "I'm glad."  
  
Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the crackling fire and Dog's snores from the bed.  
  
Finally Hawke retreated a few steps. Both he and Fenris blinked as if coming out of a trance. "I should, er, go," Hawke suggested.  
  
"I... yes." Fenris nodded.  
  
Hawke headed for the door, Fenris trailing behind him. A hand on the doorknob, Hawke looked back over his shoulder. "Take your time, Fenris. I promise you I will be here if you find what you're looking for - and even if you never do."  
  
Fenris said nothing as Hawke opened the door and left. After Hawke was gone, Fenris allowed himself a heavy sigh that bent him nearly double, his arms hugged tight around his waist. "...Thank you."


	6. Prompt #6: "I heard enough, this ends now."

"They're doing something with the dwarven ruins in the area," Kieris whispered once back in the shelter of the mostly-ruined wall where the other three were waiting for him.  
  
"Obviously," Hawke murmured. "I thought you said you were going to scout for information we _didn't_ know."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Kieris managed a tight smile in acknowledgment of the jest. "They're apparently hunting for some kind of runes that they believe the founder of the thaig left behind."  
  
"But why would there be a dwarven thaig this close to the surface?" Fenris peeked his head around the crumbled stones to get another look at the operation.  
  
The ruins were crawling with Venatori, as well as what the little party had quickly discovered were slaves. Not fellow cultists, not red templars - slaves. It had been very difficult keeping Fenris from charging in on the spot. Because he had been reasonable (and Hawke had given him a look that even impressed Zevran), they'd all decided to send Kieris to do a little scouting around before they came up with some kind of plan.  
  
"I couldn't exactly go asking around," Kieris answered dryly.  
  
"Shh, get down." Zevran, who had joined Fenris in looking around the immediate area, quickly grabbed the other elf to duck them both down further behind the wall. Fenris obeyed instinctively, but shook Zevran off with a glare.  
  
"You're certain you're working the slaves at their maximum output?" A voice said as heavy footsteps approached their hiding place. "Their lives mean nothing. If they die, we just get more. What's important is that we find what the Master is looking for."  
  
Hawke put a hand on Fenris's arm. Fenris was practically vibrating, the lyrium branded into his skin glowing like a second moon.  
  
Fenris's lip pulled into a snarl before he harshly whispered, "I've heard enough. This ends now!" Fenris drew his sword and vaulted over the wall. Hawke was on his feet and diving after him a second later.  
  
"Of course!" Kieris exclaimed as he and Zevran both pulled their daggers. "Who needs something like a _plan_ anyway, right?"  
  
"It's more fun this way!" Zevran replied with a laugh and joined the fray, Kieris hot on his heels.


	7. Prompt #7: "No worries, we still have time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Tamvir Lavellan

Everything was happening so quickly. Tam felt like he was walking through water or dense but invisible fog, his footsteps too careful in order to keep him from stumbling. Between the daze and the fancy boots he'd been made to wear, it was a very real possibility that he would trip over himself and bring shame and embarrassment to the entire Inquisition.  
  
A strong arm under Tam's helped to stabilize him. He was steered out of the palace and into the cool air of the garden. Tam didn't have to see Dorian properly to know it was him; nobody else smelled like he did. Tam leaned on him gratefully, hearing the whispers that followed them and knowing Josephine would be giving him a stern talk about this later. But after the dizzying whirl of the ballroom, Tam found that he frankly didn't care if the Orlesian nobility decided to gossip about his choice of companions. They were already whispering about him as it was - what was one more thing?  
  
"Having a rough time of it?" Dorian asked as he helped Tam find a bench to take a brief rest on.  
  
"It's... it's all quite a lot to take in," Tam admitted. "I don't know how you stay so calm."  
  
Dorian laughed. "Years of practice. You could almost mistake this for a soiree in the Imperium." He glanced around them at the sparsely populated space. "The same double-dealing, elegant poison, canapes... it's lacking only a few sacrificial slaves and some blood magic. But the night is still young."  
  
Tam blanched, but Dorian's humor was already making him feel much better. "I, and I imagine at least the majority of the elves here, are grateful for those subtle differences." He reached for Dorian's hand and looked up to his face. "I wish dancing with them was as simple as dancing with you. I'd much rather just dance with you and ignore the politics."  
  
Dorian leaned down to kiss Tam's knuckles. "Don't worry. We still have time. But just think of it! Dancing with the evil magister, in full view of every noble in Orlais? How shocking."  
  
Unable to help himself, Tam laughed. "Terribly shocking. But worth the lecture." He rose to his feet and slid his other hand into Dorian's. "You're always worth the lecture."


	8. Prompt #8: "I know you do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

Skyhold was a dramatic change from Kirkwall. It was unlike anywhere else they'd been in the past several years, in fact. Despite it being the base of a supposedly Chantry-aligned organization that was working hard to save the world from the Tevinter magister darkspawn Hawke was all too familiar with, there was a certain idyllic feeling that came from walking among mages and templars, elves and humans and all sorts all working together toward a common goal.  
  
For Hawke, it was a blessedly welcome change to not be constantly surrounded by warring factions. Especially with the Inquisitor and his entourage gone to try to settle the Orlesian civil war, Skyhold felt even quieter and more peaceful than usual.  
  
Hawke could have gone with them to Halamshiral. In fact, all three of the Inquisitor's advisors - and the Inquisitor himself - had asked him to come along. Hawke had politely but firmly refused. Not only did the Inquisitor not need Hawke's presence as a distraction from what he was trying to accomplish, but Hawke had already gotten more than his fill of Orlesian parties years before at Chateau Haine.  
  
Instead of rubbing elbows with the elite, eating canapes flavored with exotic things like sadness or despair, and undoubtedly facing some sort of double-double-cross, Hawke stood in the center of Skyhold's empty garden. Waiting.  
  
He didn't have to wait long. As the sun kissed the horizon, Hawke heard the tell-tale creak and thump of one of the doors that led into the garden. A moment later Fenris stepped off the covered walkway to meet Hawke in the middle.  
  
"This is an odd place to meet," Fenris said, a smirk at the corner of his mouth. "What are you plotting?"  
  
Hawke opened his mouth to protest and was silenced by a finger on his lips. "No, Hawke. I know when you're plotting something."  
  
Grinning, Hawke kissed the finger before it was drawn back again. "I know you do. The redeeming fact of it is you usually don't know _what_."  
  
Fenris hid a chuckle behind his fist. "Well? What is is this time, then?"  
  
Surrounded as they were by Skyhold's walls, dusk settled in quickly even with the sky still a riot of reds and purples overhead. Hawke lifted a hand and a thousand tiny mage lights sparkled around them like fireflies to illuminate the space.  
  
With Fenris momentarily distracted, Hawke made his move. He sank to the ground and took Fenris's hand in his to bring his attention back.  
  
"Fenris," Hawke said quietly, though his voice echoed in his head over the sound of his racing pulse. "I'm not very good at grand displays. Which is really for the better, I think, because I'd much rather not share this moment with anyone but you."  
  
The wide eyes Hawke looked up into were confused. "Hawke...?"  
  
"I love you, Fenris," Hawke continued. He turned Fenris's hand palm-up and pressed a kiss into the center of it. As he folded Fenris's fingers over the spot, he slipped a small object in beneath them.  
  
"Hawke, what is..." Fenris trailed off when he opened his hand. The band was simple, unornamented on the outside. On the inside were three words plainly etched. "I am yours," Fenris read aloud.  
  
"I hope you will be." Hawke swallowed his nerves. "You don't ever have to wear it, especially if it brings back any bad memories of shackles, or if you don't like it, or--" he cleared his throat and stopped himself. "Fenris, what I mean to say is, well..." He grinned, anxious but hopeful. "Will you marry me?"  
  
Fenris stared at the ring in his hand for a long moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. Finally he reached out to cup Hawke's face.  
  
"I am yours."


	9. Prompt #9: "You shouldn't have come here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

Hawke didn't know how long he'd been fighting. It could have been five hours or five days - it felt, somehow, like both. The Nightmare was his constant companion, its voice echoing through his head alongside his own thoughts. When had it started speaking in his voice?  
  
Another blast of fire; another score of scuttling, chittering spiders incinerated. They vanished entirely, not even ashes left behind. Having no build-up of defeated enemies just added to the eternal and uncanny timelessness. Only one thing told Hawke without a shadow of a doubt that time had and was passing - he was beginning to tire.  
  
Depending on who was asked, one of Hawke's most either endearing or irritating qualities was his force of will. It was something that had served him well time and again. Here it helped him keep fighting and keep the demons at bay. But even Hawke's strength was not limitless. He had weaknesses, chinks in his armor that only needed to be struck with accuracy.  
  
'The last Hawke,' his own voice mused in the back of his mind. 'Father; Bethany; Carver is as good as dead; mother. I couldn't protect them. Can't even protect myself. I'm going to die here.'  
  
"Is that really the best you can do?" Hawke asked aloud, allowing exasperation to leak into his tone. "Blah, blah, blah, my family is mostly dead, woe is me. I came to terms with that years ago."  
  
The voice in his head quieted for the moment. Hawke took the reprieve, however long it was, to lean heavily on his staff and breathe. He knew he would run out eventually. His defenses were holding for now, but it was only a matter of time before--  
  
Hawke laughed. "Better!" Even if the fear that the Nightmare's suggestions were correct was a real thing, he couldn't just give up. That wasn't who Hawke was.  
  
"So, since we're stuck here for Maker knows how long anyhow, why don't we get to know each other. For example, have you always known you wanted to look like a massive horrible spider with far too many eyes, or are you simply in dire need of a full makeover?" An odd silence greeted Hawke's question.  
  
After a few seconds of deliberation, Hawke moved away from the wall he'd put defensively at his back and walked further out into the lifeless, broken, colorless landscape. This was unusual.  
  
As he walked, Hawke began to hear something over his footsteps on stone or sloshing through puddles. He picked up speed when he realized suddenly that it was the sound of a fight in progress. The familiar chittering of the spiders assaulted him so hard that at first he didn't hear the _sshnk_ of steel or the grunts that accompanied it.  
  
Rounding the next outcropping of crumbling stone, Hawke froze mid-step. His heart beat somewhere in the vicinity of his throat as he watched the familiar dance of death not far ahead of him. He gathered his scattered wits around him and blasted encroaching reinforcements with fire.  
  
Fenris finished dispatching the fearlings around him as Hawke ran up. "Hawke," he greeted, somehow managing to fit a hundred words into just one. He made a small noise of surprise when Hawke swept him into a bear hug.  
  
"Fenris." Hawke inhaled the familiar scent of his hair and reveled in the simple act of holding him. "How did you get here? You shouldn't have come here. _Maker's breath_ I've missed you."  
  
Fenris slid his hands up Hawke's chest and around to the back of his neck, holding him close. "I chose to come, just as you did. The difference is instead of falling through a rift, I talked with Merrill. It just so happens that she went back to working on that mirror of hers after all."  
  
"Remind me to thank her when we get out of here," Hawke said with a grin. He reluctantly stepped back and held out a hand to Fenris. "With you by my side, we can do anything."  
  
"You're right," Fenris agreed, following a few steps behind. As he smiled at the back of Hawke's head, his eyes glowed briefly red and the faint outline of horns shimmered like a mirage around his head. "We can do anything as long as we're together."


	10. Prompt #10: "You think this troubles me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

It was a well-known fact of life in Kirkwall that once night fell, you took your life in your hands if you chose to brave the streets. Thugs, bandits, and other like-minded sorts prowled the darkened alleys in search of anything that could turn a profit. Unfortunately for one such group, the marks they followed from The Hanged Man looked very profitable, indeed.  
  
The larger of the pair had one arm slung around the shoulders of the other, and an uncorked wine bottle dangled from the fingers of his free hand. The smaller man, clearly elven by his slim frame and pointed ears, was unbowed despite supporting a good third or more of the bear of a human's full weight.  
  
That should have been the first red flag.  
  
"Isabela was right," Fenris said with a slight smirk. "You are completely shit-faced drunk."  
  
"Nah. If I can still get the bottle to my face without putting it up my nose instead, I'm clearly fine," Hawke assured him. When accompanied by an awkward stumble over his own feet, however, his confident words were nothing but air.  
  
"If you say so," Fenris grunted. He easily shifted Hawke's weight for better balance and to free up the massive two-handed sword Fenris carried on his back.  
  
That should have been the second red flag.  
  
"I do say so." When Fenris didn't humor him by continuing the conversation, Hawke also lapsed into silence... for about a minute. "Have you ever thought about how Kirkwall really needs an image change? I mean, The City of Chains is such a dreary moniker. And those statues in the harbor!"  
  
Fenris sighed and just let Hawke talk himself out for a while. But as they approached a particular junction of buildings, he held up a hand to silence Hawke. A hand that went completed ignored until Fenris used it to grab the lower half of Hawke's jaw and physically muffle him. A half-second later, Fenris cursed and yanked his hand back.  
  
"You _licked_ me!"  
  
Hawke smiled serenely and nuzzled his face against Fenris's neck. The white lines etched in Fenris's skin flared blue wherever he touched.  
  
Had this group of thugs any sense of self-preservation, they would have seen the warning signs literally glowing in front of them. Instead, they pounced from the alley with weapons drawn.  
  
Fenris made a disgusted noise and shoved Hawke away and behind him. He pulled his sword in the same movement, meeting the first strikes aimed at him and making the area ring with the clang of metal on metal. He repelled the first wave easily: they weren't expecting resistance.  
  
Even on his own, Fenris was a formidable force. He leapt to the offensive, cleaving through bodies and leaving them broken in his wake. The sudden addition of back-up fireballs unnerved Fenris for multiple reasons, but not one of the bolts came close to hitting him. It seemed that even pissed drunk, Hawke's aim was true.  
  
The last of the ruffians, rather than taking the sensible route and fleeing, ducked under Fenris's sword. The man grinned triumphantly and swung his blade toward the elf's stomach. Before the blade could connect, his expression dropped to one of shock and he gurgled what might have been intended as a yell.  
  
Fenris withdrew his hand from the man's chest and dropped his still-beating heart on the paving stones. The lifeless body joined it shortly after.  
  
Covered in blood, Fenris turned back to where he'd left Hawke. Though Hawke may have been wavering slightly, he stood on his own feet and his gaze was steady. Fenris suddenly felt uncomfortably vulnerable. "I," he began. "I'm sorry for subjecting you to that again. I realize that to most people it's unsettling to see."  
  
It only took a few steps for Hawke to get close enough to touch just his index finger to Fenris's lips. "Really, Fenris, you think this troubles me? It's one of the most impressive things I've ever seen. _You_ are, actually. All of you."  
  
Fenris quickly pulled away and cleared his throat. "Yes, well. You're drunk. Let's get you home."  
  
"Nobody's ever fought for me like that before," Hawke continued as they resumed walking. "I felt like such a damsel in distress! Just wait until I tell Varric."  
  
Fenris facepalmed so nobody could see him smile.


	11. Prompt #11: "But I will never forget!"

Thunder rumbled above Skyhold and echoed through its halls. While many others rushed to get under cover, Tam went against the flow of bodies and made his way outside. Rain was just beginning to fall. Tam tipped his face up to it and closed his eyes, seeing the flash of lightning through his lids not long before another low growl rattled the windows of the tavern nearby.  
  
"Are you crazy?" A familiar voice hissed as a hand clamped down on his wrist. "Get inside!"  
  
Startled, Tam didn't protest and let Kieris drag him into the tavern. Kieris seemed even more rattled than the windows had been, his eyes wide and his ears pressed flat. "Are you alright?" Tam asked.  
  
"Oh, you know," Kieris non-answered, "no big deal." He dragged Tam up the stairs and around to the back, right into the little room Sera had claimed for her own.  
  
"What are--" Tam began.  
  
"I can't believe you're afraid of a little bit of thunder and lightning," Sera scoffed and threw a pillow at Kieris. "Aren't you Dalish all out in the woods and elfy and stuff."  
  
"I don't make fun of your irrational fears, you don't with mine," Kieris offered, shuddering at another display from the weather outside. "Deal?"  
  
"Deal," Sera agreed after a moment of deliberation. "So I'm gonna go. Don't do anything weird, okay?" Sera grinned at Tam as she passed him to leave. "I mean, I might _eventually_ forgive you. But I will never forget! Eww!" She laughed and ran off, leaving the two of them alone.  
  
Kieris had already sat down on the floor and was in the process of pulling a blanket over his head. Tam moved to sit beside him, but actually on the window seat. He awkwardly patted Kieris's head through the fabric. "Are you going to be alright?"  
  
"Eventually. Sorry for dragging you with me." Kieris sounded embarrassed. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."  
  
"But nobody would complain if you choose to stay," Zevran added. Tam looked up in surprise; he hadn't heard Zevran arrive. "You are delightfully decorative, after all."  
  
Tam felt himself blush from head to toe when Zevran followed the words with a wink. "I should go," he said quickly and hurried for the door, nearly tripping over his feet in his haste. Zevran's amused chuckle followed Tam until the ambient noise of the Herald's Rest was drowned out by the comforting drum of rain and the occasional loud clap of thunder.  
  
Rather than heading into the keep, Tam let himself meander around the grounds. He splashed in puddles as he walked, getting absolutely soaked and more than a little muddy before he bowed to responsibility - and cold - and headed for his quarters. There was something refreshing about a good downpour.


	12. Prompt #12: "Who could do this?"

It had been years since Hawke had felt truly frightened. He hadn't forgotten how it burned the back of his throat with frozen fingers, clenched a fist around his heart, and made both of his feet seem to be encased in lead. There was no forgetting that. But his mind had buried the memories, covering them with better things in order to protect him.  
  
There was nothing that could protect him now. He was heartsick with worry and fear, tearing through the streets of Lowtown with Varric and Fenris on his heels. The trail they chased was paved with blood. How mother's blood.  
  
Once, Hawke had thought he'd managed to catch the man who was behind the string of abductions and murders of women in Kirkwall. It hadn't been the right man in the end, but there had been a time of quiet that had made Hawke almost think that maybe, just maybe, the killer had died or otherwise left. And then the lilies had appeared.  
  
"Here," Hawke panted. The trail vanished at the threshold of an abandoned foundry. There could be nowhere else.  
  
They didn't find Leandra in the foundry, but they did find a trap door and a subterranean dwelling. They found a merrily crackling fireplace and, above it, the portrait of a woman who looked disturbingly similar. Looking at the painting, Hawke choked on his usual glib words. Whoever was doing this, whoever had taken her, he wouldn't kill Leandra. He couldn't. Not when he so clearly cared for someone she resembled. He must have taken her because of it.  
  
The little bubble of hope that Hawke had been carefully protecting was utterly demolished in the very next room.  
  
Hawke didn't remember killing the man responsible for the deaths of multiple women - including Leandra. He barely noticed the charred, blackened corpse smoldering nearby. The only thing registering in Hawke's imploding, overloaded mind was that the chimera that bore his mother's face was still and cold in his arms.  
  
"Hawke, I don't think--" Varric tried.  
  
"How?" Hawke asked softly, his voice rough and cracked. "Who could do this? Who could be so twisted and _sick_ as to do something like this?"  
  
It was Fenris who touched a hand to Hawke's shoulder and slowly convinced him to let the body go. He led Hawke back to Hightown as if towing a sleepwalker, even going so far as to help Hawke get his boots off and crawl into bed.  
  
He even went so far as to curl up beside Hawke and take him in his arms, holding him close while Hawke finally broke and sobbed into his shoulder.


	13. Prompt #13: "Try harder next time"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris
> 
> Please note: This chapter is why this work has the E rating (so far)  
> Please also note: After Fictober is finished, I intend to revisit this and expand it into a full, separate work! I just didn't have time yet.

Wine bottles often met a shattering end in the mansion that stood derelict in Hightown. Typically it involved a short flight and a sudden meeting with the wall. Sometimes, though rarely, it was a much shorter and more vertical trip.  
  
The bottle they'd been sharing previously, along with a pair of cups and several other things, were all swept aside and sent crashing from the table to the floor. Fenris was set down in their wake, wrapped up in a close embrace and kissing Hawke until neither of them could breathe.  
  
"Hawke," Fenris panted, pawing at Hawke's bare chest and shoulders in an attempt to gain purchase and pull him close again.  
  
In response, Hawke nipped at Fenris's earlobe. "Fenris," he breathed into the pointed ear. At the same time he moved his hips and gave Fenris what he was seeking, his cock sinking deep into him once more. A ripple of light pulsed through Fenris's tattoos as Fenris moaned and tangled his fingers in Hawke's hair.  
  
"Let go," Hawke suggested, his own big hands coming to rest on Fenris's chest. Fenris allowed himself to be pushed back onto the table's surface, releasing his hold on Hawke's hair. With nothing to hold onto, his palms flattened against the smooth wood.  
  
Hawke pulled back only to thrust into him again, earning another heavy moan from Fenris's lips and eliciting a surge that bathed their immediate surroundings in blue. The light rippled with each slap of skin on skin, adding even more to the sensory overload.  
  
With a grin, Hawke gripped Fenris's legs and rolled him almost double. He hooked Fenris's knees over his elbows as he leaned over Fenris and pinned him fully to the table. One hand kept Hawke propped up, the other curling around Fenris's cock. Fenris squirmed and wrapped his arms tight around Hawke, fingers finding his hair again and grasping tightly.  
  
Hawke dipped his head to lick the hollow of Fenris's throat. He tasted the sweat that beaded there, Fenris's gasps and breathy moans loud in his ears. It made Hawke shudder and quicken the rhythm. That, in combination with the sharp drag of Fenris's fingernails across one of his shoulder blades, was the last straw. Hawke muffled his growling, guttural cry against Fenris's neck, burying his cock to the hilt as he came. With a few more dragging pumps of Hawke's fist, Fenris joined him.  
  
As the echoes died around them, leaving them to the sounds of their labored breathing and the crackling fire, Hawke slowly pushed himself up to stand again and eased Fenris's legs down. Hawke kissed the inside of one knee and made Fenris jump and halfheartedly swat at him - Fenris, Hawke had learned, could be incredibly ticklish.  
  
"I can't believe this old table is so sturdy," Hawke commented. "I guess I'll have to try harder next time."  
  
"You want to break it?" Fenris asked. "That seems like an odd goal."  
  
Hawke chuckled. "No. I just expected it to squeak as satisfyingly as your bed does."  
  
Fenris grinned back. "If that's what you want, why not just start with the bed?"  
  
"I intend to work my way over to it," Hawke replied, running his fingers down the insides of Fenris's thighs and coaxing forth the faintest glimmer of light.


	14. Prompt #14: "Some people call this wisdom"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris (implied)

"All right, I think I'm done testing my luck for the night," Hawke said and stretched his arms high over his head.  
  
Varric laughed as he collected up the cards as well as the gold Hawke had lost to him. "You're learning, Hawke. Never bet against a dwarf." He winked at Fenris, who smirked slightly. "You too, elf. I'll get those five royals you owe me later."  
  
"And I promise that you will get them." Fenris pushed his chair back from the table and rose to his feet. He swayed slightly, but righted himself and retrieved his tankard from the table to finish it off.  
  
"Quitting before you're in over your head - you know, Hawke, some people call this wisdom. You should apply it to your daily life, too." Varric kicked back and signaled for another drink.  
  
Hawke blew a raspberry. "Honestly, Varric. I've been accused of being many things, but _wise_ has never been one of them."  
  
Fenris snorted a laugh. "Truer words were never spoken." He set his empty tankard down and nodded to Varric. "I'll see you next week, if not before," he promised.  
  
"See you next week," Varric agreed with a return nod.  
  
"Hawke," Fenris said, settling the full weight of his heavy-lidded gaze on him. "I look forward to seeing you again."  
  
"I'll be here." Hawke met those bottle-green eyes and held steady. The more difficult task, really, was breaking away from them. Thankfully, a moment later Fenris turned and began making his way out of The Hanged Man.  
  
"Well?" Varric asked in an undertone. "What are you doing staying here?"  
  
"Having a drink with my friend," Hawke replied, saluting with his tankard.  
  
"What? Okay, so broody elves really aren't my thing." Varric let all four feet of the chair drop back to the floor. "But you've made it _pretty_ obvious that they're yours. He gave you an opening! Go after him, you big beardy idiot."  
  
"Am I an idiot or am I wise?" Hawke challenged with a lift of his eyebrows.  
  
"I'm pretty sure the only actual 'wise' you are is a wise-ass. Get out of here, already!" Varric flapped his hands to shoo Hawke from the tavern.  
  
"You really are one hell of a wingman." Hawke leaned down to plant a sloppy kiss on Varric's cheek before jogging between tables and out the door.


	15. Prompt #15: "I thought you had forgotten"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Tamvir Lavellan

Tracking it down had taken longer than Tamvir had expected, but finally he'd managed to acquire it. The amulet was larger than he thought it would be, intricately carved with symbols that undoubtedly meant something in Tevinter. To a severely non-magically inclined Dalish, however, any arcane meanings behind them went completely unrecognized. But it was heavy, gold and onyx except for a single ruby set into the eye of a serpent. Unsettling but beautiful in its own way.  
  
Tam wrapped the amulet with a piece of cloth and tucked it into one of the pouches on his belt. He couldn't hide it in just one hand, and he wanted it to be a surprise. It had been long enough since Dorian had last mentioned it that Tam doubted he had any indication that Tam had continued looking.  
  
He paced his quarters, working to gather the courage he needed. It was just Dorian - how difficult could this be? But Dorian had also explicitly asked Tam to not do exactly what he'd gone and done. The possibility that Dorian would be angry was what gave Tam pause, making him anxious about delivering something that both he and Dorian knew Dorian ought to have.  
  
A knock at the door make Tam jump. He pressed a hand to his chest to try to calm his suddenly pounding heart and called, "Come in!"  
  
"While I do quite like our Lady Leliana, I must admit that her cryptic comments can be a touch unnerving," Dorian said as he let himself in.  
  
Tam quickly dropped his hand. There was no helping his runaway heart now. "Oh?" At least there was no longer any need for him to work up the courage to find Dorian. He just needed to hand the amulet over.  
  
And pray to each and every one of the Creators that it wasn't thrown back in his face. No pressure.  
  
"Yes," Dorian replied. He walked with incomparable grace up the stairs and came to stand before Tam. It was all Tam could do not to reach for him and hold him tight. That would be so much better than possibly angering him. "She said I'd find something good if I came here. Which is always true, of course, but first of all I don't like the idea of her snooping, and secondly the way she said it was simply _ominous_."  
  
"Oh." Tam fidgeted, his fingers tangling together in front of him and his bare toes digging into the rug. "Well, she wasn't telling you falsely. I have something for you."  
  
At Tam's nervous tone, Dorian's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "This isn't another letter from my father, is it?"  
  
"No!" Tam yelped, lifting his hands in defense and shaking his head. "No, any letters from your father should be brought immediately to you. It's none of my or anyone else's business, only yours."  
  
"I _was_ mostly joking, but thank you for trying to be so considerate of my privacy." Dorian smiled, reaching through Tam's lackluster defenses to cup his cheek, thumb running lightly over his lower lip. "What is it you have for me, Tam?"  
  
Tam shivered, his skin heating as a full body blush rose to show in his face and back-slanted ears. His tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth. Rather than a verbal response, Tam withdrew the fabric-wrapped bundle and held it out with both hands and his head slightly bowed.  
  
Startled, Dorian took it. "What's this? I didn't actually expect a prese--" The fabric was pulled back and Dorian froze. "I thought you had forgotten all about this thing." A crease appeared between his brows. "Tamvir, I told you I never wanted this. Now I'm indebted to you."  
  
"I wanted to find it for you," Tam said without lifting his head. "It's yours. You should be the one to have it."  
  
There was a long moment where neither of them said a word. A glance up through Tam's lashes showed Dorian tracing his fingertips over the amulet's surface. Finally, those same fingertips hooked under Tam's chin and gently directed him to look up. "Thank you. And I apologize for being such an ass at accepting gifts."


	16. Prompt #16: "This is gonna be so much fun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Tamvir Lavellan

They had to leave the mounts at the forward camp. The going would be treacherous at best - between rotting wooden planks and knee-high water, it was completely unsuitable for creatures with hooves. To his credit, Dorian had kept the bulk of his displeasure silent. Tam was well aware that Dorian hated every rainy, fetid second as they prepared to entire the Fallow Mire, but very little of it was from actual complaint.  
  
Just as Tam was finishing his last checks to move out, he was halted by heavy hands on his shoulders. Craning his neck, he looked up at Dorian. "What is it?"  
  
"You. Boots. Now." Dorian let go in order to retrieve the offending footwear from where he'd packed them. He presented them to Tam with an insistent little shake.  
  
Tam wrinkled his nose and wiggled his toes against what should be hard-packed dirt of the camp. It was decidedly muddy and squelchy instead of firm. "Do I have to?"  
  
"Hostile Avvar, rumors of a deadly plague, undead, plenty of filth - this is going to be so much fun! Why don't we add in some terrible disease caused by you stepping on something sharp and rusty?" Dorian pursed his lips but otherwise gave Tam a flat look.  
  
Tam sighed. "Alright. Will you help me lace them?"


	17. Prompt #17: "I'll tell you, but you're not gonna like it"

"He said to wait. Unless there's a significant reason to not, I'd say we should stay put." Alistair aimed a pointed look at Zevran, who had his daggers out and occasionally spun them in his hands.  
  
The daggers disappeared back into their sheaths, and instead Zevran's leg began to bounce. Alistair couldn't exactly blame him for it - Kieris had been gone longer than they'd been expecting. Nobody enjoyed sitting in the Deep Roads and _waiting_.  
  
Just as patience was wearing dangerously thin, the soft scuff of leather on stone perked their ears. The daggers were back in Zevran's hands as if they'd never left, and Alistair drew his sword. None of the weapons turned out to be necessary, however, as the only figure to materialize out of the darkened tunnel was that of their missing friend.  
  
"You're back!" The look of sheer relief on Zevran's face was not something Alistair had ever expected to see from him.  
  
"Thank the Maker," Alistair said with a grateful sigh. "Well, you're back safely. Does that mean the way ahead of us is clear?"  
  
Kieris wrinkled his nose and reached up to rub his forehead with one hand. A line that Alistair had mistaken for a shadow overlaying Kieris's vallaslin rubbed away. Blood? "Yeah, about that," Kieris said. "I mean, I'll tell you, but you're not gonna like it."  
  
"I think that might be the story of both our lives anymore," Alistair quipped, though his attempt at sarcastic humor felt flat even to him.  
  
"With luck and maybe some stealth, I have a plan to try to keep those stories still going," Kieris promised. "So. Are you guys ready to get out of here?"


	18. Prompt #18: "You should have seen it"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

As in all aspects of Hawke's life, Fenris fit perfectly in the room Hawke had previously been given at Skyhold. It was nice to, for once, not be the person running around trying to take care of everyone else's problems. Hawke had already done plenty of that. He wished the Inquisitor good luck.  
  
There were certainly those people who thought Hawke, simply by being there with the Inquisition, should take over some amount of control. The very idea of it made Hawke laugh. He'd helped where he could with the Wardens, and he had reiterated the story of his experience with Corypheus many times and was likely to be called on to do it more in the future. He'd even walked into the Fade and somehow made it out alive. No, his part in this was not to infringe on the Inquisitor's job. He would offer all the advice in him, but other than that he fully intended to spend his time with Fenris rather than scrambling to put out fires that really, in all honesty, could be fixed by the parties involved simply _talking_ like grown ass adults.  
  
"I still can't believe you left me behind," Fenris groused. He was curled comfortably on the bed with Hawke, his head on Hawke's shoulder and his fingers trailing idle patterns in the hair on Hawke's chest. "You left me behind and then did something incredibly dangerous. Actually, put that way, there's very little about that that is difficult to believe."  
  
"...Point taken," Hawke agreed after a short, thoughtful pause. "Though I feel required to clarify that falling through a rift an into the Fade was neither my plan nor my fault."  
  
"You were _there_ ," Fenris said. He propped himself on his elbow so he could comfortably look down at Hawke with lifted brows. "It was inevitable for some disaster to strike."  
  
"Are you calling me troublesome?" Hawke asked with feigned surprise.  
  
"Are you trying to deny it?" Fenris countered. He couldn't hide his amused smirk.  
  
"Not at all! Just making sure I was properly understanding what I'm being blamed for this time." Hawke smiled and slid his hand down Fenris's side, smoothing out wrinkles in his shirt. "The Fade was... I can't describe it in a way that does it justice. You should have seen it! You would have absolutely hated every horrifying second."  
  
Fenris rolled his eyes. "If you hadn't left me behind, I _would_ have been there to see it. You are the reason I wasn't there to make sure you returned safely."  
  
"Here I am. Safe."  
  
Fenris frowned and thumped his fist against Hawke's sternum. "Yes, thanks to the Inquisitor stopping you from being a noble idiot."  
  
"You're right," Hawke agreed, catching Fenris's hand before he could hit him again. Instead, Hawke used the slight leverage it gave him in order to pull Fenris in and allow their lips to brush. "And I have utterly learned my lesson - I never plan to let go of you again."  
  
"Good," Fenris breathed, then pinned Hawke down to the bed for a more satisfying kiss.


	19. Prompt #19: "Oh please, like this is the worst I have done"

It was pleasant just to sit and listen while Hawke and Varric chatted. Fenris played a solo game with Varric's cards at one end of the table and occasionally chipped in a few words. Mostly he was content to let the two of them reminisce and tell stories.  
  
When Varric pulled out a manuscript and handed it over to Hawke, silence descended like a comfortable blanket. Eventually Fenris left the cards in order to settle himself on Hawke's lap instead.  
  
"What is it?" Fenris asked, tilting his head and trying to puzzle out Varric's handwriting.  
  
"Varric wrote a romance novel," Hawke replied. Fenris could hear the barely-restrained laughter in his voice. "About Aveline."  
  
" _What_?"  
  
"Now, now. That's not Aveline - any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental," Varric explained with a smirk.  
  
"This is absolutely Aveline." Hawke grinned. "Have you told her that she's the inspiration for a romance novel protagonist? Given you're still alive, I'm guessing not?"  
  
"I can't believe you wrote a novel about Aveline," Fenris commented, swallowing his own urge to laugh.  
  
"Oh please." Varric chuckled. "Like that's the worst I've done. The way you two are acting you'd thing I'd done something actually ridiculous."  
  
"You did," Fenris said dryly.  
  
"This is the woman who said it was a 'nice night for an evening'," Hawke pointed out. "I'd say turning that utter disaster at flirting into a romance heroine counts as ridiculous."  
  
"I dunno, Hawke. I still feel like that's not as much of a stretch as what they wanted me to do in Antiva." At two sets of raised eyebrows, Varric laughed. "They wanted me to write a script for them about the Champion and his lover. Apparently they were going to fully illustrate it. Maybe even turn it into a play."  
  
As the amusement quickly drained out of his audience, Varric lifted his hands in defense. "I didn't do it! I'm not suicidal after all."


	20. Prompt #20: "I hope you have a speech prepared"

Being infamous was entirely different from being famous. In the weeks since besting the Arishok in single combat, Hawke had noticed a pronounced change in how the citizens of Kirkwall acted around him.  
  
The little fact that he was an apostate, for example, had been something of a dramatic reveal.  
  
Hawke had kept more to himself since the fight, choosing not to leave the mansion very much. Given the people who liked to hang around Hightown, hoping to catch a glimpse of their Champion, none of Hawke's friends blamed him for his reclusive tendencies. They did at least talk him into occasionally coming out to visit after night fell.  
  
On one such night, Hawke slipped out of the mansion and headed straight into Lowtown. He knew where his friends would be gathered - it was Varric's night to host some card games at his room at The Hanged Man. Hawke just wanted a little bit of that normalcy again. Staying at home, alone, just wasn't something he could force himself to do for very long at a time.  
  
It was hard to say which was worse - solitude, or a tavern packed with people all wanting to get a glimpse of the so-called Champion. Hawke froze in the doorway and looked out over the gathered crowd.  
  
"Hawke!" Varric's voice carried over the noise, the man himself pushing his way over to Hawke and grabbing his arm. "I couldn't get a message out to tell you; they all just kinda showed up at once."  
  
Hawke turned wide eyes down to Varric. "How?"  
  
"No idea. Well, some idea, but unproven." Varric slapped Hawke on the back. "I think a few words from you is the only thing that'll placate them at this point. I hope you have a speech prepared."


	21. Prompt #21: "Impressive, truly"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Carver Hawke/Merrill

It was one of the hottest days Kirkwall had seen in years. Isabela's brilliant plan had been for them all to visit the Wounded Coast and brave the waters. Some, like Fenris, had taken more coaxing than others. And even once everyone had gathered at the little strip of beach surrounded by rocky shores, there were more difficulties.  
  
"I can't wear that!" Merrill exclaimed. "That's not a bathing suit, Isabela! It's a spare bit of string with a few patches still attached."  
  
"It _is_ a bathing suit, kitten, and you'll look wonderful in it." Isabela pushed the meager bundle of fabric into Merrill's arms and hustled her behind a rocky outcropping to change.  
  
The suit was slightly more covering than Merrill had feared, but it still bared far more of her pale skin than she was used to. Isabela's left even less to the imagination. On the plus side, Merrill thought to herself, the minimal clothing was far less oppressive in the heat.  
  
"Here, kitten, put this on or you'll burn." Isabela pressed a bottle into Merrill's hands. "It's a sun protection lotion. You might want to get some help for your back." She gave a wink and left the rocks. Merrill heard her gleeful shouts and more than one appreciative whistle. When she ventured out after, most of the group had already run off into the water.  
  
Fenris, at least, was sitting beneath of the shade of a tree nearby rather than playing in the ocean. When Merrill joined him, he lifted a questioning eyebrow. "Isabela's doing?"  
  
"Yes! Do you like it?" Merrill asked, turning so she could try to see more of herself. "It's a fair bit smaller than I could have chosen, but it's a rather nice color."  
  
"It's..." Fenris trailed off, focusing on something over Merrill's shoulder.  
  
"Hello. My, er, brother. He sent a message asking me to come by," Carver said awkwardly. He was obviously sweating profusely in his heavy armor, his dark hair plastered to his head.  
  
"Here, let me help you," Merrill offered, scrambling to her feet. "You must be baking like an oven!"  
  
"Carver!" Hawke called, waving from the water's edge. "Glad you could join us!"  
  
"That idiot is going to drown himself if he isn't careful," Fenris muttered. Merrill saw the faint curve of a smile at the corner of his mouth as Fenris stood and walked down to the shore.  
  
"That's my brother, alright," Carver half-laughed, half-sighed. "Trust him to have a beach party with everything else going on."  
  
"Why not?" Merrill asked. "It's hot, and nobody can run around all the time trying to solve everyone else's problems. He deserves some time to have fun." She watched as Hawke grabbed Fenris in a bear hug and the two of them crashed down into the waves. Clearing her throat, she turned back to Carver. "So? Shall we get you out of all that, then?" She paused, then asked, "And maybe afterward you could help me put this on my back so I don't burn?" Merrill held up the little bottle for him to see and then set it down at her feet.  
  
"I'd be honored," Carver said. He was flushed; likely from the heat and the armor he wore. Together, they made quick work of the straps and buckles that held it all in place. Plates and chain and thickly padded fabric were tossed into a pile on the shaded sand as they worked their way down.  
  
"What's that?" Merrill asked curiously, tracing her fingers over the ink scribed into the muscle on one side of Carver's chest. "Is that a mabari?"  
  
"It is." Carver looked down at her and suddenly grinned. "Do you want to see it bark?"  
  
"It _barks_?" Merrill asked, her mouth agape.  
  
Carver flexed, making the tattooed dog jump with the movement of his muscles. Calling it a 'bark' was a bit of a stretch, but Merrill still clapped excitedly at the display.  
  
"That is very impressive! Truly a magical mark." She reached out again to touch, almost as if petting the inked dog.  
  
The red in Carver's cheeks wasn't just from the heat. When they'd finally divested him of armor, the two of them sat beneath the tree and he helped Merrill with the bottle of sunscreen. But rather than going out into the sun, the two of them stayed for quite some time just talking alone together in the shade.  
  
If Merrill rested her head on Carver's chest, her ear against the tattoo, it was only to better hear the mabari.


	22. Prompt #22: "I know how you love to play games"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris
> 
> Please note: NSFW  
> Please also note: After Fictober is finished, I intend to revisit this and expand it into a full, separate work! I just didn't have time yet.

Hawke could always tell when Fenris had something on his mind. He had learned over time that it was best to leave him to his thoughts rather than asking more than once, but that didn't stop Hawke from keeping an eye on him through the day and into the evening. When Fenris called it an early night and left for their shared room in Skyhold's guest wing, Hawke gave him about half an hour to settle in before he followed.  
  
One of the last things Hawke expected when he let himself into their room was to find nearly a Chantry's worth of candles flickering on every horizontal surface. Fenris looked up from lighting a final swath as the door opened and Hawke slipped in.  
  
"What's this?" Hawke asked with a puzzled smile.  
  
Fenris took a deep breath and set the candle he'd been using to light the others down. A dozen or so remained dark until Hawke lifted his hand and snapped his fingers to bring them to life. "A surprise," Fenris said, moving to meet Hawke near the door. He touched only the tip of his finger to Hawke's chest, but that faint pressure was more than enough for Hawke to obey. Fenris pinned him to the door with it and looked up into his face. "I was given an idea, and I know how you love to play games, Garrett."  
  
The unusual use of his given name sent a warm thrill down Hawke's spine to pool low in his belly. "I do love to play games," he agreed, bringing his hands up to skim along Fenris's sides. A sudden iron grip on one wrist stopped him short.  
  
"No," Fenris corrected. For a moment his eyes dropped from Hawke's, subservient and unsure. But they lifted again, holding within them the confidence Fenris had built over years of being in a better place than their long ago first meeting. Neither of them were the same men they had been back then. "No, Garrett. The way we play this game is I give you the rules and we find out how well you follow them."  
  
Hawke's whiskey-brown eyes twinkled in the flickering light. "I like this game already," he said in a low voice. It was one of the sexiest thing Fenris had ever done, this unexpectedly dominant aspect he was asserting.  
  
Fenris released Hawke's wrist and traced his finger up from the center of Hawke's chest to rub gently at the hollow of his throat. "Take off your shirt and sit on the bed," he said, his tone one that would accept no argument.  
  
Hawke didn't move until Fenris stopped touching him and stepped back. Then he did exactly as requested, removing his shirt and tossing it aside before going to sit on the foot of the bed. He looked toward Fenris, alert and curious.  
  
While Hawke did as he was bidden, Fenris went over to a small chest and withdrew something Hawke couldn't see. When Fenris turned around again, he held a piece of black fabric in one hand and a length of soft rope in the other. The heat Hawke had already been feeling rushed to settle between his legs. He drew in a sharp breath and nodded wordlessly.  
  
"Rules," Fenris reminded him. He set the rope on the bed next to Hawke and unfolded the fabric. While he drew it over Hawke's eyes to tie at the back of his head, Fenris continued, "If you're unsure with anything you can tell me 'yellow' to slow down. Say 'red' and I will stop immediately."  
  
"And if you want to check in and I'm fine?" Hawke asked.  
  
"Green," Fenris replied. "Green means good, yellow to slow, red to stop."  
  
"Green, yellow, red," Hawke repeated back. The little shiver that ran through him was one of anticipation rather than fear.  
  
"Good."


	23. Prompt #23: "This is not new, it only feels like it"

It felt strange to be helping the Hero of Ferelden settle into new quarters. The room Zevran had informally occupied prior to the Warden-Commander's arrival was far too small for two people, and Josephine insisted that they be placed somewhere other than in amongst the common soldiers. Never mind that Kieris had explicitly stated at least twice in Tam's earshot that he'd much prefer to be considered as ordinary and unremarkable as possible.  
  
Tam could relate.  
  
Kieris dropped his single bag on the bed, making a terrible clashing noise by doing so. Tam jumped almost a foot in the air and came down reaching for daggers that weren't there. "Sorry!" Kieris exclaimed, immediately a touch sheepish. "I forget how loud it is sometimes."  
  
"What do you have in there?" Tam asked, one hand pressed to his chest as if to steady his racing heart.  
  
"Just some junk." Kieris opened the bag and upended it on the bedspread. With another awful clash and clang, out tumbled a full set of shiny silver chainmail and matching armor plates, along with all the padded and studded blue cloth that went with it.  
  
Tam turned over the breastplate so the griffon insignia faced up. "Did you bring a new set of armor for formal occasions?" he asked curiously.  
  
"New?" Kieris echoed. "Oh no, this isn't new, it only feels like it. I never wear it - honestly, I didn't even want to bring it but I couldn't leave it behind without feeling guilty."  
  
"Why don't you wear it? It looks like it's all high quality." Tam ran a hand over the silver chain shirt, admiring the craftsmanship and aligning the metal rings as he went.  
  
"Why do you wear your scout leathers instead of whatever super-recognizable armor they've undoubtedly tried to get you into here?" Kieris countered.  
  
Tam grimaced. "Point taken."


	24. Prompt #24: "You knows this, you know this to be true"

"Keeper, you can't honestly mean to send me away!" Kieris hurried after her, his head reeling from the sudden sharp turns his life was taking in such a short amount of time. "I know that we should have come back and told you instead of exploring those ruins, but... please don't do this! Don't banish me for this."  
  
"Da'len, you are not being banished." Marethari turned when they were out of the immediate sight of the camp. She cupped Kieris's face in her blessedly cool hands to hold him steady. "Kieris, don't you feel the sickness still inside you? Even now you burn with fever and your face is pale. Leaving with him is the only way there is to save you." She looked deep into Kieris's eyes. "You know this, da'len," she said softly, sadly. "You know this to be true."  
  
Kieris winced. He did know, deep down, that he wasn't truly being exiled. His Clan would never abandon him; sending him away with an unknown shemlen had to be a last resort. But he wasn't ready to admit that his life was no longer his. He wasn't ready to admit Tamlen was gone forever. His heart squeezed painfully and he swallowed back the telltale pricking at the back of his eyes.  
  
He wasn't ready to say goodbye.


	25. Prompt #25: "Go forward, do not stray"

Out of everyone in the Clan, all the different options and people with proper skill sets, somehow it had been decided that everything would rest on his desperately unqualified shoulders. They made it out to sound like it was some sort of honor, that he would be an ambassador for Clan Lavellan as well as a covert agent trying to obtain more information on the Conclave. If it was truly an honor, it was one better given to someone actually suited for it.  
  
Butterflies threatening to escape his stomach, Tam finished the last buckle on his leather armor and checked those that held his sheathed twin dar'misu firmly affixed. He swallowed the flutters and turned to face his waiting father.  
  
"Are you ready?" Roshan asked after giving Tam a short, approving nod.  
  
"You know I'm the worst possible choice for this," Tam tried, not for the first or even the second time. "Father, please. You could talk to her. Tell her to send Unali, or Lasani, or... anyone but me."  
  
Roshan shook his head and moved closer to his son. He ruffled Tam's coppery hair as he always had, ever since Tam was a tiny child. "Your sister, at a meeting comprised predominantly of humans? Tamvir. You can't honestly believe she'd be a better choice."  
  
Though he didn't want to, Tam had to bow his head in recognition and concession to Roshan's wisdom. Lasani was many things, but 'human tolerant' and 'even tempered' were not among them. "But--"  
  
"Deshanna chose you for a reason. Have a little faith in her judgment and your own abilities." He pulled Tam into a half hug before giving him a gentle push toward the door. "No more 'can't', Tamvir. When you're at your most unsure and afraid is when you must go forward. Do not stray from the path ahead of you without first taking the chance to see what you're made of."  
  
For his father' sake, Tam squared his shoulders and left the tent with his chin lifted, faking a confidence he did not remotely feel. As soon as he was out of sight, however, Tam allowed himself to sink back into a more comfortable and more defensive posture. If he was unassuming enough, maybe nobody would notice him. All he wanted was to just be invisible.


	26. Prompt #26: "But if you cannot see it, is it really there?"

Malcolm knew his son all too well. He was trying to teach him as best he could, but there always came a point when Garrett's eyes glazed over and nothing Malcolm said could reach him. That was when he had to try something out of the ordinary to pull his attention back. It was vital - being as gifted as he was, Garrett needed all the knowledge and protections Malcolm could give him.  
  
Malcolm leaned down and snapped his fingers under Garrett's nose. A tiny flicker of flame accompanied the snap, causing Garrett to abruptly reel back. "Whoa!"  
  
"You're wandering again," Malcolm said. He managed to make the explanation into a gentle reprimand at the same time, causing his preteen son to duck his head and squirm.  
  
"I'm sorry, father. I was just thinking." Garrett's eyes went to Malcolm's hand again and he surreptitiously mimicked the snap.  
  
"What were you thinking about?"  
  
"Oh, uh..." The snap was forgotten, Garrett instead squirming again and clearing his throat. "I was, well, I was thinking about... demons."  
  
The hair on the back of Malcolm's neck stood on end. "What about them?"  
  
"I know they're scary and all, but..." Garrett frowned, looking far more serious than his tender years should allow. "If you can't see it, is it really there? I've never seen one."  
  
"Oh, Garrett," Malcolm said, his breath escaping him in a rush. "Pray you never do. But we'll still prepare for the worst, anyway."


	27. Prompt #27: "Remember, you have to remember"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

The strip of leather was heavy around his neck, weighted further by the chains attached. There were no less than three, though all were held by the same man. Master. He was confident, yes, but still his captive could sense the fear that ran just beneath the surface.  
  
"Go," Master said, the first of the chains dropping to his feet. "Kill them." The other shackles detached, one after the other. "Kill the mage first. Without their precious Champion, Kirkwall is nothing."  
  
He needed no further instruction. He cut a wide swath on his way toward the Champion of Kirkwall, eyes never leaving the man as he ducked and dodged and spun his heavy bladed staff. Like Master, Champion had confidence. But he didn't have fear.  
  
Champion didn't see him as he neared, too concerned with other threats. Good. Let him not see the blow coming. Let him not know who--  
  
He slowed, almost halting, one gauntleted hand clutching the front of his armor. A feeling he couldn't name welled in his chest, aching and burning like fire. But he could still hear Master's voice in his head - 'Kill the mage.' He could not disobey a command.  
  
The arc of his sword was a little too wide, a little too slow. Champion whirled with preternatural speed in order to catch the blow on the haft of his staff.  
  
The fiery glow of magic in Champion's eyes faded, leaving them a warm, almost-recognizable brown. They held pain, sadness - but still no fear. "Fenris," Champion breathed, the word an ache that seemed to seep into the attacker's very bones.  
  
His view of Champion blurred as he brought his massive sword around for another sweeping attack that was easily blocked. Fenris's moves were sluggish, weak, and his eyes kept blurring. His face itched; was it raining?  
  
The sword went flying, Champion catching Fenris off guard and wrenching it drom his hands with a spin of the staff. Fenris had no chance to even lunge for it before arms were around him and he was pulled tight against Champion's chest.  
  
"Fenris, please, remember," Champion begged, the words shaky. They turned into a gasp when Fenris's tattoos lit, casting a blue light over them both. "You have to remember," he continued to choke out, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips.  
  
The heart in Fenris's hand, punched straight through its owner's chest, continued to beat. Hawke's blood smeared across Fenris's already tear-streaked cheek as his knees gave out and he sank down, pressing a weak kiss to the corner of Fenris's mouth. "I love you," he whispered. The heart in Fenris's hand was still.  
  
"Hawke." Fenris choked on the name. "Hawke!!"


	28. Prompt #28: "I felt it. You know what I mean"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Zevran Arainai/Kieris Mahariel, The Iron Bull/Lasani Lavellan

Kieris wasn't sure what to make of Tam's older sister. She wasn't the first angry Dalish he'd ever met, of course, but her particular brand of rage was different from what he was used to. Zevran, on the other hand, was unfazed by her withering glances and snarky comments. In fact, he outright invited them.  
  
Tonight he had gone so far as to have taken Lasani's spot when she was occupied elsewhere. She returned to find Zevran seated overly-comfortably in Iron Bull's lap, one hand pressed flat against his chest. "You must know how much I love a _horny_ man," Zevran said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Lasani asked icily.  
  
Zevran gave her an exaggerated wink. "You always look so comfortable over here, and me, I had to see what I have been missing."  
  
Iron Bull shifted Zevran to one leg and reached for Lasani to pull her onto the other. Kieris couldn't hear what he leaned down to tell her, but her expression changed from outright anger to narrow-eyed contemplation. Finally she shook her head and shoved Zevran off. "No."  
  
Zevran gave up graciously. "Of course. But you cannot blame a man for his curiosity." He returned to Kieris's side at the bar.  
  
"In fact, yes," Zevran said cheerfully. "It was _exactly_ as expected - enormous."  
  
Kieris shook his head and laughed. "I didn't expect you to actually go _check_!"  
  
"I wanted to. How could I resist?" Zevran leaned in close. "And I felt it." He winked. "You know what I mean. The Inquisitor's sister is a very lucky woman."


	29. Prompt #29: "At least it can't get any worse"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

It was a routine enough job. Hawke wasn't unused to helping clear out some of the gangs and thugs that tried to gain a foothold in Kirkwall's Lowtown or down at the docks. Rather than trying to take them all on alone, however, he knew better. He got help.  
  
"Remind me again why we're doing this with just us?" Fenris asked as he drew his sword. The gang that called themselves the Redwater Teeth formed a loose circle around them, their own weapons out and threatening.  
  
"We can take them," Hawke said confidently. He launched into an attack, blasting the nearest wave with a cone of cold. "I mean, at least it can't get any worse."  
  
As if to trying to directly contradict him, a loud ripple of thunder rolled through the heavy black clouds above. A split second later the torrential ran followed. Fenris allowed himself a brief glare over his shoulder before wading into the fray with his massive sword flashing.  
  
"Okay, I was wrong!" Hawke called after him, slinging fireballs in spite of the downpour. "It can't get any worse now."  
  
Within a matter of minutes, Hawke and Fenris were back to back, surrounded once more, but this time unarmed and both panting for breath.  
  
"Okay, _now_ it can't--"  
  
"Not another word," Fenris growled as his markings began to glow. They were getting out of this situation one way or another.


	30. Prompt #30: "Do we really have to do this again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Dorian Pavus/Tamvir Lavellan

Dorian knew their destination wasn't going to be pleasant when he was Tam packing to leave. It was a rare sight for the Inquisitor to carry a pair of boots with him - even rare for him to do it willingly. Dorian cringed and prepared himself for the worst.  
  
"Well, that's a terrible sign," he said with sarcastic cheer, walking up behind Tam and peering over his shoulder. "Where might we be headed that _you_ of all people would consent to the dread footwear?"  
  
Crinkling his nose, Tam leaned back into Dorian. "Apparently there are some old Grey Warden artifacts in the Fallow Mire. I already promised I'd do what I could to retrieve them before I realized it required another visit to that place."  
  
"Ugh. Do we really have to do this again?"  
  
"I know. I feel the same way. But with the undead still around, and there might be some remnants of the Avvar..." Tam trailed off with a sigh.  
  
Dorian matched the sigh and curled his arms around Tam. "At least you're being sensible this time." He paused, then groaned and pressed a kiss to the top of Tam's head. "What are you doing to me? I'm never the optimist!"


	31. Prompt #31: "I've waited so long for this"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Garrett Hawke/Fenris

The mansion looked the same as it always did, right down to Dog snoring comfortably in front of the fireplace. As Hawke stood in the center of the room with Fenris, however, for an uncanny moment he saw it all as if it was brand new. It was large but inviting; upscale but cozy. The high-end furnishings had imperfections, such as obvious marks from dog teeth or claws, not to mention the bangs and scuffs of everyday use.  
  
"I know I don't really need to give you a tour," Hawke said, slinging an arm around Fenris's shoulders. "But indulge me a little, won't you?"  
  
Fenris quirked a brow, amusement plain on his face. "Really, Hawke?"  
  
"Why not?" Hawke asked. Fenris might have the mastery of puppy eyes, but Hawke could stick out his lower lip and pout like the best of them.  
  
Sighing, Fenris took Hawke's face in his hands and drew him down to kiss him. "I've been in your house a hundred times. I don't need you to show me everything I already know."  
  
"I know you have. I just want to do this right, you know?" Hawke leaned his forehead against Fenris's, cherishing their closeness. "I've waited so long for this. I've waited so long just to say 'welcome home'."  
  
"It's good to be home." Fenris smirked. "I'll miss dancing from room to room like I did when I lived alone, but I'm sure I'll adjust."  
  
"Who said you ever have to stop doing that? You'll just have a partner for it now."  
  
Fenris couldn't help it. He buried his face against Hawke's chest and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming on this wild ride with me! It was rough, and I got sick at the end (which is why the last one went up so late, sorry about that), but I hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun writing these. Some of the ideas will be elaborated on in the future, as soon as I have the time and brainpower to do it.


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